


What Peter Sometimes Does Behind The Wall (And 1 Thing Sylar Will Always Do)

by SherlockMalfoy



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, One Shot, the wall - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 18:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13664433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockMalfoy/pseuds/SherlockMalfoy
Summary: Five things Peter sometimes does while stuck behind the wall.And one thing Sylar always does.





	What Peter Sometimes Does Behind The Wall (And 1 Thing Sylar Will Always Do)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a stand-alone thing, not connected in any way with my other Heroes stories.

_**Peter** _

**1.**  
    Sometimes, I wonder.  
    I wonder how my friends are. I don't have many left these days.  
    Sure there's people I know. But friends?  
    Friends I can only count on one hand.  
    And family?... Well...  
    That saying everyone likes to quote, about blood being thicker than water?  
    Doesn't mean the same to everyone. It used to mean a lot to me.  
    But now?... Family's just a word for people who share parts of my DNA. People who, if you ran a test, might have my same blood type. Or match a kidney and marrow.  
  
**2.**  
    Sometimes I hate myself.  
    I can still feel it, just beneath the surface. What I used to be.  
    So strong. So powerful.  
    I was a god. Arrogant at times. But...  
    And then it was ripped away from me without a second thought.  
    I'm broken. And I'm angry. All the time.  
    I try and I try. I've done everything I can to make it right. To fix what's broken. To get back what was taken from me. But I can only manage a fraction of what I once was.  
    But now?... Even as I feel it, the broken part of me that remembers what it felt like to be a god among men, I have to be grateful for what I have left. If I don't, I think I'll go mad.  
  
**3.**  
    Sometimes I dream.  
    I dream of a world where none of this happened to me.  
    A world where I'm still me. I'm still in my same apartment, living my same life.  
    About my friends I had then, and my family that was never shattered.  
    I even dream of ways I might have met the others.  
    Maybe meet the time traveler at a charity function. Our parents were business partners. Once.  
    I've dreamed of meeting the cheerleader in a much more pleasant way. Her searching for her birth parents. A tearful reunion of long lost daughter and father.  
    I always dream of the many ways my brother might have survived. These dreams are terrifying. Dark. Hateful. These aren't dreams, but nightmares.  
    But now?... My favorite dreams are the ones where I've met the shy watchmaker when trying to get my mother's tennis watch repaired. The ones where I've been assigned to care for an old woman with dementia who lives with her kindhearted son.  
    I like these dreams the most. The dreams of what might have been in another life.  
  
**4.**  
    Sometimes I die.  
    In my line of work, with the things that I can do, it happens.  
    In this place, death doesn't exist. In this place, I simply go to sleep and wake the next day. It's different here. Just like going to sleep.  
    The longest I've been dead, that I remember, is four hours.  
    It's how long it took for the scientist to carry me across New York during rush hour to my mother's home.  
    That was the second time I died, back when I had the power of the gods themselves.  
    There's nothing there in the dark. But the moments immediately before?  
    Depending on how you go, how quick it is, you see your life flash by.  
    Not your whole life. There's not enough time for that.  
    But enough to make you regret or be at peace.  
    When you come back though, that first sweet breath of life filling your lungs with the gasp of a thirsting man in a desert? Few experiences can compare to it.  
    There was a time, not that long ago, when I would long for the sweet release of death.  
    When I became broken.  
    When I was betrayed and manipulated.  
    When all I held dear had been ripped away so violently and quickly.  
    But now?... When I die I cling to the hope that flashes before me in those short moments. I cling to the memories of my life now. And I hope that maybe this time, if my corpse warms and draws new breath... maybe this time I'll awake into one of the worlds I've often dreamed of.  
  
**5.**  
    Sometimes I fight.  
    I fight my family and I fight my friends.  
    I fight against my enemies and I fight against the world.  
    Against the potential future and the mistakes of someone else's past.  
    It's all I've known for so long now, that it's the only way I know to live.  
    Blood and bone and pain and hate.  
    To be calm and be still, to be serene and be at peace... I've long forgotten how.  
    I'm so tired of running. Of fighting and brawling.  
    My anger is all I have left. My hate. It's what keeps me going, keeps me fighting.  
    But now?... After so long holding onto it, clinging to the pain, I just want it to stop. I want it to end. I've been fighting against fate for so long and so hard, but it's only now that I realized I've only been fighting against myself.

  
_**Sylar** _

  
    I always watch him.  
    Hammering away at that wall day after day. Night after night.  
    And sometimes I fight.  
    Because that's all we've ever done.  
    And sometimes I die.  
    Because I know it's what I deserve.  
    And sometimes I dream.  
    Because if things had been different, we might have been friends.  
    And sometimes I hate myself.  
    Because all the things I've done, the lives I've taken.  
    And sometimes I wonder.  
    What does he see left worth saving in me?


End file.
